[Instructions to a Son newly come of Age, Revd. Peter Morgan (London: published for the Author, 1691)] Nobody is more suspicious than a man hovering on a doorstep at three in the morning, shivering in the unexpected chill of a cloudless June night. Behind me, I could hear the murmur of Mazzanti’s voice in the drawing room and Mrs Baker’s sharp protests. Bedwalters had just gone, striding off towards his house on Westgate Road; Heron’s carriage had been waiting for him, the coachman walking the horses up and down the street. He had driven off without a word to either of us. My own lodgings were not far away but I still lingered, going over in my mind the route Julia would have had to take to get from this house to Amen Corner. Not an easy one and she was a near stranger to the town too, with only two weeks’ acquaintance with it. And I warrant she would not have walked very far during her stay. Why had she gone to Amen Corner? Had she been attacked there or elsewhere?
